


Finding Love Amongst the Junk

by colisahotnorthernmess



Category: British TV Celebrities RPF, Find It Fix It Flog It RPF
Genre: First Kiss, First Time, Flirting, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Pushing and Shoving, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-26
Updated: 2018-09-26
Packaged: 2019-07-17 12:55:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16096115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colisahotnorthernmess/pseuds/colisahotnorthernmess
Summary: Henry had never thought he would see the day he'd be interested in upcycling rusty old relics into bathroom cabinets and standard lamps; he certainly never thought he'd see the day he would fall head over heels for a man who used to be in Brookside.A bit of fluff where two men kiss in a barn. Fiction for Channel 4's Find It, Fix It, Flog It.





	Finding Love Amongst the Junk

The bottom of the ladder began to wobble and Simon felt light-headed for a second, even if he was only six feet off the ground. And, with all of the will in the world, he still wasn't sure he'd be able to fetch that metal cow-feeding trough down from up high. He was balanced precariously, holding up an item which was far too heavy for him to be holding - after all, if this thing was used to sitting in a field on the Yorkshire Moors and not budging under pressure or blowing away in the wind, it was a sturdy old girl.

Eventually, Henry gave him a hand and the pair of them brought it to the ground. His enthusiasm for such a bizarre object was infectious, if not a little comical also. Si supposed he became just as giddy sometimes over even _sillier_ things - but only usually, for him, if it involved some mouldy, woodworm-ridden timbers he could practice his carpentry skills on.

"Sorry... I do have to say it always makes me laugh," Simon announced, starting to chuckle as Henry enthused about turning the trough into a garden planter.

"What?"

"You - standing there with your leathers on talking about trailing lobelia."

Alright, so it _was_ rather amusing... _and_ a tad strange. Sometimes, Henry didn't know how Simon had managed to do this to him - _he_ was supposed to be the tough, leather-clad biker, who only came to these barns to look at engines, motorcycles and tractors - and, believe me, there were more than enough of them to gander at - and it was _true_ now that Simon was starting to turn him into some kind of bloody _upcycling_ nut. It was a craze he never thought he'd get his head round; now, he was one of them - a bloody _upcycler_ \- turning old tat into shinier old tat that people wanted in their homes.

In fact, when he signed up to work on the Find It, Fix It, Flog It programme, it had initially been with great trepidation. After all, he was no professional furniture restorer. But Channel 4 had assured him there would be plenty of mechanical whatnots for him to sink his teeth into, what with the presenter they had teamed him up with - Simon O'Brien and his assistant Gemma - being more interested in the home furnishing side of things.

They had assured him that he and his mechanic Guy would be able to tinker with bikes to their heart's contents, and they certainly hadn't been lying about that - there had been _countless_ opportunities to do so. Only, it was Henry himself who had started to turn to the dark side, now occasionally preferring instead to work on bar stools made out of old milk churns, or coffee tables built from water tanks.

"Hey - just 'cause us bikers ride motorbikes, it doesn't mean that we can't love and appreciate the delicate, perhaps, _finer_ things of life," he preached.

"Well... you are a bit of a _girly_ biker, when it comes to it," Simon taunted him, reaching forward. "Just look at your hair--"

"Hey," Henry held up a hand in protest, but soon realised that his efforts were futile. And he wasn't even sure that he actually _wanted_ it to stop. Si was fondling his golden locks and it was, to his surprise, a rather enjoyable experience.

He hadn't _mentioned_ \- had he - that, in addition to his seemingly new obsession with interior design, he was starting to see himself _change_ in other ways. It seemed that there was only one person who could talk Henry Cole into just about _anything_ , including upcycling, and that was _Si_. He'd even stopped eating the green Jelly Babies in the bags they bought for their car journeys together, even though they were his fave, so he could leave them for Si, knowing that they were his favourite too. What had he _become_?

Henry had never thought he would see the day he'd be interested in upcycling rusty old relics into bathroom cabinets and standard lamps; he _certainly_ never thought he'd see the day he would fall head over heels for a man who used to be in Brookside.

"You look like you've just been to the salon," he was told.

The older man shuddered with pleasure at the contact, gentle fingers raking through his hair. He was basking in the heavenly feel of fingernails tickling his scalp. And Simon had only taken his _cap_ off - how the hell would he have reacted if he'd taken his trousers down? "Christ," Henry thought to himself, "You need to get a grip, son - you're going to give the game away."

The two of them liked to fool around during filming, as most men often did when they were showing off in front of an audience - pretending to fight for their 'finds' and so on. And this was only another example of such tomfoolery, Henry had told himself, as he tried to ignore the rapid increase of his heartbeat, and tried, in vain, not to meet with Simon's adoring gaze - those beguiling eyes - as the blond strands were tousled between curious fingers. To be honest, Henry was glad that they _weren't_  presently filming - the camera crew had yet to arrive on set.

Cole contemplated how O'Brien had never really been so lovingly tactile with him before. He had always felt that most of their teasing was purely for the sake of portraying an on-screen chemistry, at least from Si's point of view. 

"Geroff," he shrugged, pushing his Liverpudlian friend from out of his personal space, and the pair of them giggled, now falling into a loose embrace. "What you playing at, Si - eh?" he shook his head, trying to fend him off.

"I just think you need roughing up a bit," O'Brien grinned, his hands now moving down from his hair and face to his torso, gently gripping the material of his gilet.

"Oh yeah," Cole replied. "By a..." he trailed off, eyes flickering upwards as he bit down on his lip, "...By a working class boy from Liverpool?"

"Yeah," he flashed a wicked smile. "I think you're too posh," he came at him again, pushing him backwards and sending the pair of them hurtling through the barn. The Shed and Buried presenter ended up losing his footing and stumbling back into the corner, toppling over to find himself sitting on a dusty, old and dented metal steamer trunk. Oh, and _yes_ , with Simon now lying, _sprawled_ across him. There was laughter all round. At their age, this stunt was enough to cripple them for days - which, _somehow_ , made it all the more funny to them both.

"Mate, you're an idiot," said the bespectacled man - though his glasses were now _thoroughly_ lopsided.

"Yeah," Si smirked, re-adjusting the wonky specs, "But an idiot you're in love with."

Henry was stopped in his tracks by Simon's startling words. He bowed his head, but not nearly enough to prevent the chink of daylight breaking through into the barn from revealing that his cheeks were now starting to burn. Besides which, O'Brien was not merely  _close_ to Cole; he was practically  _sitting_ in his lap - they were both still lying on the steamer trunk, barely inches away from each other's faces. It was a blushing which could not be hidden from Si's view. "How did you know how I felt?" he asked, embarrassed by the remark.

"You should know me," the younger man explained. "If I have the vision to see a potential lampshade in a broken computer monitor, then I can _definitely_ see the way you look at me," he went on, slightly smug.

"You're very confident," Henry smiled, narrowing his eyes.

"You have to be... Just like with the upcycling ventures, you have to take a _chance_ on things. Sometimes, it works - sometimes, it doesn't. But you can have a lot of _fun_ trying to make it work, nonetheless."

"Oh right," the motorcycle enthusiast nodded. "And do you think that _this_  could work?" He pointed between the pair of them.

"I don't know," Simon answered. "But I think I could have a lot of _fun_ stripping you down and admiring your patina."

"And having me powder coated?" Henry suggested. "In candy apple red?"

"Henry--" said Si.

"Hmm?"

"Now you're taking it too far," there was a laugh as he cupped the presenter's bearded face with one hand and brought him in for a kiss - slow and tender as he dragged them both back up onto the trunk with his other hand.

"You know - I think I've just found my first item," he broke the momentum of the kiss.

"What? The trunk?"

"No," came the revelation, "A handsome Scouser I've just found amongst all this stuff."

"You're bloody terrible, Henry."


End file.
